Julie Talbert

Talbert began doing standup in Houston after some time attending open mics purely as a spectator. “I started going to observe people do comedy,” Talbert says of this period. She even recalls a particularly haunting experience bringing a date to an open mic (something us at Comedy Wham have warned readers not to do). Humiliation notwithstanding, Talbert took it upon herself to write her own material. A three minute set was well received and gave Talbert the morale boost needed to continue with her new craft. There was another rewarding factor at play; Talbert admits that seeing someone else bomb on stage gave her the peace of mind that she didn’t completely embarrass herself as a first-time comic. This pivotal moment coupled with a new flexible job led her to pursuing comedy as a serious endeavour.

Having come up in the Houston scene before making the move to Austin, Talbert knows the differences between the two hubs. In the wake of Austin’s comedy boom, Talbert can’t help but be wistful for the more tight-knit community of Houston. “I do miss the aspect of Houston comedy where you knew everyone,” Talbert says. On the flipside, she shows a liking for the audience temperament here vs. Houston crowds. “There’s an attitude difference,” Talbert explains. “In Austin, people come out and they want to laugh, and people in Houston come out and they’re like ‘make me laugh’”.

Talbert’s beginnings as a comic precede both her transition and a certain viral pandemic. These two developments coincided, as Talbert puts it: “I started transitioning right as the pandemic started.” After a roughly year-long halt on live comedy, Talbert had some reticence going back to the stage as a new person. Luckily for Talbert, her post-2020 return was a comeback. “I don’t think it was that long after (transitioning) that I got booked on my first show,” Talbert explains. Whether or not she owes this milestone of success to her new identity, Talbert undoubtedly found new freedom as a trans comedian. “Being visibly trans does give me an avenue to say things that other people can’t and get away with it,” Talbert says. “People know that I’m joking.” The inbuilt irony of her comedy speaks to a greater responsibility that what comedians say in the name of irony should be in clear contrast to how they actually feel. This is something Talbert believes comedians owe to their audience.

It’s become an increasingly scary world for trans people. At a time when they’re being used as scapegoats, denied gender-affirming care and denied their own existence outright, the state of being a trans person today is especially bleak. Between federal policies devised for trans erasure and general transphobia, Talbert laments that the best option for trans people is fleeing Texas for friendlier states, if they can afford to. “I think the best thing is probably just to be in a place where at least your state government wants to protect you,” Talbert says. It’s unfortunate that the safest course of action isn’t feasible for all trans people (including Talbert herself). As far as the comedy world is concerned it also means the departure of Austin's trans comics and creatives, some of whom have already fled. Increased efforts to repeal and deny rights for trans people have pushed simply identifying as such into being an act of defiance. Even if it’s half-facetious, for Talbert to say that it ‘goes hard’ to be trans is emblematic of her resilience in the face of discrimination. It’s a funny way to spin being an outlaw by default.